


The One Where It's Not a Secret (Except to Them)

by orphan_account



Series: Pining Pines [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7313647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stan twins are pining and Fiddleford wonders if they think they're being subtle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where It's Not a Secret (Except to Them)

The first time Fiddleford Mcgucket meets Stanley Pines it is one week after his roommate is caught down in the dumps. His usually can-do attitude regarding school work has suffered a speed bump and the room they share is filled with interminable crestfallen sighs of woe. It’s really the first time Fiddleford has ever seen Stanford sad and really it was only a matter of time before the sensitive southerner asked to the source of the problem.

“It’s just-” Stanford says with this forlorn voice and a heavy shrug, “It’s my birthday coming up and it’s the first time I won’t be celebrating it with Stanley.”

Stanley, Fiddleford knows, is Stanford’s twin brother who likes toffee peanuts, smells like sweat and the pier and stinking socks but in a good way, and has a chubby body but firm muscles from boxing lessons in his youth. Of course this is all second hand knowledge - he’s never really met the young man himself - but Stanford talks about him a lot.

That, honestly, should have been his first clue.

“I’m sorry.” Fiddleford replies, patting his roommate on the shoulder. While Fiddleford has family he’s close to back home, various cousins and aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews, not to mention his own parents, there’s something about the way Stanford talks about his family that suggests he’s mostly close to his brother. Which makes sense since they’re twins. Fiddleford can’t even imagine the emotions Stanford’s going through, being separated from the person he’s shared his whole life with. “You can always phone him.”

“Yeah.” Stanford mumbles. He looks at his desk as if lost by the usual comforting numbers and letters that makes up his homework - and this is how Fiddleford knows he’s really heartbroken by this - only to push off the desk to go lie face down his bed, leaving his homework unfinished for now.

One week later, Fiddleford is the one to spot him. Stanford has been trudging through classes all day but today they’ve just gotten back from their last lab and there’s someone in the courtyard: familiar brown hair, familiar square jaw, and he’s eating toffee peanuts from a nearby vending machine. It’s Stanley. Fiddleford’s only ever seen him from the photo on Stanford’s nightstand - smiling in front of the camera one arm thrown across his brother’s shoulder, cap already gone from his head but the high school diploma held tightly in his hand - he’s gotten stubble since then, a little less pimply, just similar enough to Stanford for a double take but different enough to know who is who.

Fiddleford takes this all in, makes sure it’s Stanley he’s seeing, then nudges Stanford who’s been staring at his feet the whole time. “Hey,” He says, pointing at Stanley on a bench facing this building, “who do you think that is?”

And Fiddleford watches as Stanford’s look of subdued confusion perks up into a look of unadulterated joy. His eyes brighten, his back straightens, his thin frown stretches into a grin - before Fiddleford can blink Stanford is running towards his brother, his satchel thumping against his legs _thump, thump, thump,_ and he’s shouting, “Stanley!” like a bugle horn, loud and attention catching.

And Stanley gets up just for Stanford to ram into him and he’s stumbling backwards but he doesn’t fall over as he picks up his brother in his arms and swings him around, saying, “Hey there Sixer, ya missed me?” with this fond tone and they’re hugging tightly and looking into each other’s eyes, lost to the world around them, and Fiddleford thinks,

 _That’s a long time to be hugging._ And then he thinks, _Do they even notice I’m here?_ And then something goes off in his head, a seed that plants itself in the back of his mind.

And that’s how Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket began his first step, the first of like - _two_ steps - in realizing that Stanford Pines and Stanley Pines were totally gay for each other.

The second step in finding out Stanley and Stanford Pines are very much gay for each other in the not-at-all platonic way is basically him existing in the same room as Stanford Pines while his brother is visiting. They are insufferable together. Like a couple that finishes each other sentences kind of insufferable. At first, Fiddleford thought it was twin telepathy or something but the more he listened, the more he became aware of how flirtatious the dialogue was.

“Quit it.” Stanford says as Stanley hangs off his brother. They’re walking to Stanley’s car, the car he drove here with all the way from Jersey. Stanford struggles to move forward with his brother’s weight but Stanley doesn’t seem want to end their one-sided hug too soon.

“What can I say?” Stanley says in return, wide grin on his face he squeezes his brother’s midriff tighter, dragging his feet as Stanford tries in vain to walk forward, “I can’t seem to keep my hands off of you.”

Fiddleford, watching all this from behind, stops in his tracks. He waits a few seconds and when neither twin seems to register the remark as weird, shrugs and thinks, _Maybe that’s just their usual dynamic._

But then there was the gift.

“Stanley you should have told me you were coming sooner!” Stanford says as they get to Stanley’s parked car. There’s something in the trunk, evident by the fact that whatever it is, it’s keeping the thing from being entirely shut. “I put your gift in the mail a week ago! It’s probably halfway to Jersey by now.”

“Then I can’t wait to get it.” Stanley says with the utmost sincerity. “Now hurry up and open the lid. I wanna see your nerd face when you see what you got.”

From where Fiddleford stands slightly behind them, the content of the trunk is a mystery, but Stanford’s face isn’t. Stanford gasps and his eyes light up and when he looks at Stanley it’s with reverence. “Stanley.” He says, his voice awed, “This must have cost you a fortune.”

“Ha ha.” Stanley laughs and it’s a little awkward around the edges, a little forced, “Actually there was a sale and I got a discount-” and Stanford might have bought it but Fiddleford from where he stands can hear the uneasy way he says it, see the way his eyes stray too far to the left, the tight smile on his lips. Stanley’s lying. “I was hoping you could use it at night and see the same stars I see and,” he shrugs, “I ‘unno, think of me?”

At this point Fiddleford takes a step forward to peer in the trunk. In it is an unopened box advertising a brand new telescope on all sides: it’s big, and it’s fancy, and it can apparently view stars during anytime from early evening to late dawn which means it’s also one of the new ones which is very, very expensive. Even with a ‘discount’ Stanley’s wallet must be hurting.

“Of course I will!” Stanford says. “This is - this is so,” - _romantic_ , Fiddleford thinks - “much Stanley. I don’t know if I can ever thank you properly - my gift isn’t as nice as this.” And then they’re hugging, just like when they first saw each other in the courtyard, ignoring Fiddleford completely except this time Fiddleford can see it as Stanley inhales with his nose buried in his brother’s hair, long and hard like someone would do at a nature trail after being cooped up in the city too long, then slumps into his brother’s frame like there’s no where else he’d rather be. Stanford doesn’t seem to notice.

“And hey,” Stanley continues once their hug has simmered down - they’re still in each other’s arms mind you, because for some reason they can’t seem to get enough of each other, but nonetheless Stanley continues with, “maybe we can plonk this bad boy in the Stan O’ War when you get home.”

Fiddleford glances over to Stanford only to find a tight smile similar to his brother’s on his face. His eyes dim a bit, seem to unfocus, but when he replies it’s a neutral sounding, “Maybe.”

And that’s how Fiddleford finds out that while the Pines twins may be totally in love with each other - it’s a lot more complicated than he first thought. Yet in some ways, he finds in the years to come, it’s more annoyingly simple than they both realize.


End file.
